


Limitless

by Marvel_Patronus1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst Dean Winchester, FWB, Fallen Castiel, Friends With Benefits, M/M, No strings attached relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvel_Patronus1/pseuds/Marvel_Patronus1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Dean sex is the one thing you can't possibly fuck up, therefore a 'friends with benefits' relationship with a fallen angel seems like a piece of cake. After all sex is sex.</p><p>That is, of course, until the universe starts trying to teach him a few lessons. The most important being how hard it is to tell someone you love them.</p><p>After that realisation things start getting a little complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limitless

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story is inspired by and based on R. Mckinley's '8 Ways To Say I Love You'  
> (http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/8-ways-to-say-i-love-you/)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_"We don't get to pick who we fall in love with and it doesn't happen like it should."_

_\- Alvin (No Strings Attached)_

_0._

It started talking about the old days.

The days before Leviathans and fallen angles.

When Ellen and Jo and Bobby where still around to give him shit.

He's hunched over a glass of whisky or scotch or rum or some drink that's slowly burning away his brain cells and mellowing out his body. He can't really be sure how many he's had, but he knows it's enough to form a cloud over his vision. 

Next to him, Cas is hammered. It isn't the first time he's seen the angel drunk, but he thinks that it must feel different now he's human, fallen, an abomination to heaven.

Whatever it is you call it. 

The fine details don't really seem to matter when you're pissed and horny as hell.

"Remember when you took me to engage in intercourse?" Cas asks, his voice is rough and deep but the alcohol runs it smooth like honey.

"I hadn't laughed like that for years." He recalls with a dull ache in his chest. He downs his drink- he must have had nine, maybe ten...he wasn't counting. A fond small smile settles over Cas's face.

"You said that then as well." When Cas looks over at the bar fight starting, he steals the beer and drinks it. Cas can order another one. 

"So did you ever...?" he trails off and Cas looks back at him, he wonders what this must be like for him. If everything looks different now that he's human. If his stomach churns at the sound of bones crunching and the sight of blood makes him wince in sympathy. He wants to tell Cas that the fight going on isn't all humanity is, that they're worth a lot more and life isn't just getting drunk and beating one another up.

The words can't find their way to his throat though.

"Did I ever what?"

"Get laid." Cas blushes and Dean likes that human part of him now. The one that shows reactions and proves he's more than just a wall of angel.

"No."

"Do you want to change that?" When Cas nods and those two guys at the bar start getting louder Dean decides that this is one part of humanity he can show Cas doesn't suck. So he places a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover their drinks (he thinks) and hopefully leave a good tip. Cas watches him as he stands up and holds out his hand. He hopes his eyes are dark and smoldering but it is possible they're unfocussed and heavily lidded. Cas takes his hand slowly and stands up, keeping eye contact. Wordlessly they make their way back to the Impala that Dean had parked behind the bar in fear of it being broken into or stolen.

He's glad he did because there's no way he's sober enough to drive it back to the motel. In saying that, having sex in a car park means anyone could see them- this really lowers the chances.

Cas doesn't object as he pushes him into the back and straddles his hips. Cautiously he grinds their hips together, getting their cocks to stir slightly. When they kiss it tastes of stale alcohol and peanuts. It's all teeth and tongue and terribly uncoordinated- Dean isn't sure if it's because Cas has never kissed anyone or because they're both too drunk to put care into it. 

Soon though, as his blood starts flowing and body starts responding, he's pushing off that coat Cas insists on wearing and pulling off that tie and when his fingers can't handle the buttons he just rips it instead. Cas needed new clothes anyway.

There's a brutal moan that isn't his when his fingers run down the bare skin in his sight. His lips follow, mapping it out, tasting it and licking it. Cas shivers beneath him and Dean wonders if this is Cas or Jimmy responding. If Jimmy is still there even though Cas is now human and the body is his. When his lips reach the waist line of the black slacks and he bites the jutting hip bone he knows it's Cas by the strangled 'Dean' that comes out.

"Just relax babe." He mutters into the skin and then he unbuttons Cas' fly and pulls the slacks down to his knees, lifting himself up a bit to do it. Cas is half hard in his tighty whities. Dean thinks he needs to get Cas some boxers.

Nimbly, he runs his fingers up Cas's thighs and then pulls the underwear down slowly. Jimmy's body is clean cut like a good Christian boy, he comes close and takes the tip in his mouth, sucking and licking as Cas looks at him with wide blue eyes and lets out a string of groans and moans. 

“D-Dean.”

“Let me get undressed.” He breathes, leaning up from Cas’s cock and stripping his shirt then awkwardly pulling his jeans and boxers down. There was probably a better place to do this than the back of his car, but Cas isn’t complaining and he isn’t going to either.  When he lies back down, Cas pulls his mouth to his and kisses him. Their cocks bump against each other causing each of them to break apart in a groan.

“Spit on my hand.” He tells Cas. The ex-angel does, dropping the spit and then using his tongue to lick it around Dean’s palm. His cock twitches at that and when he pulls it away, Cas gives him a heated look.

“Fuck.” He mutters, bringing his hand up to their cocks and stroking them together.

“Dean yes…oh yes.” He brings his mouth to Cas’s neck and sucks hard, biting and nipping and sucking, licking over the wound before doing it all again. Cas is writhing beneath him, sweat has formed over their bodies and the air is thick and heavy.

When Cas comes, he wishes he could remember it forever. His body goes still, each muscle going hard and taut before letting go, relaxing into the leather lining of the car as his cocks twitches and spurts- some of it going onto his hand, some landing on their chests. He follows after a few more strokes. His bites hard on Cas’s neck and closes his eyes tight as he reels over the edge. 

As far as orgasms go it isn’t the best he’s had, but it’s good and Cas is breathing hard beneath him, fingers idly running up his spine.

 

.....

The second time isn’t much better. After weeks of awkward eye contact and only a few stuttered words shared Sam forces them together to ‘discuss’ their ‘issues’. Dean doesn’t even remember how the discussion ended with him having Cas spill down his throat while he comes in his pants. After all, he didn’t even like giving head but Cas looked so good coming undone at the mercy of his mouth.

When Cas is on the floor still leaning against the wall and Dean has his head on his thigh, they still don’t talk about it but Dean doesn’t really think he wants to.

Sex is sex after all.

If he’s getting an orgasm out of it and Cas is getting some experience he doesn’t see the problem. So when he sits up to clean himself and says “Maybe we should make this a thing- fucking I mean.” He’s not that surprised.

What does surprise him is when Cas says, “Ok” like it’s nothing new and excuses himself for a walk. 

After that it’s just sex. 

And hunts.

And burgers.

Maybe a few arguments.

Plenty of hangovers.

But sex all the same. It’s sometimes angry and hard with bruises and heavy breaths. Sometimes sad which neither of them address. Other times it can be done with laughs and secret smiles. Occasionally they take their time and gently map out one another’s bodies. Then there are the times where it’s rushed and quick but still satisfying.

It’s never loving or tender or caring with feelings and tender touches.

That is until the universe starts trying to teach him a few lessons.

Like how much he likes it when Cas smiles at him.

Or how his heart beats a bit faster when Cas ignores advances at bars in favor of sharing his bed that night.

Or that cuddling after sex can be nice.

Or that Cas, sleepy eyed and basking in post orgasm bliss, is one of the best images to falls asleep with. 

…Or how difficult it is to say I love you.

That one definitely starts to change things.

 

_1._

_Spit it into her voicemail, a little slurred and sounding like the shot whiskey you downed for courage. Feel as ashamed as you do walking into work in last night’s clothes. Wake up cringing for days, waiting for her to mention it._

He decides the smart thing to do is to not mention it in hopes of being able to continue whatever it is they’re doing.

Sam, when he found out, said that these arrangements don’t work out. He didn’t really know what he had been expecting, maybe a clap on the back for deflowering an angel. Maybe a hit in the face for deflowering an angle. Either one of those didn’t include being told he would fail at this like he did at everything else in his life. 

“It’s just sex Sammy, you have to be a fucking idiot to get a sex only relationship wrong.” He had told him. It was obviously the wrong thing to say though, considering how now it wasn’t just sex- at least not to him- because for some reason things just changed.

The thing that pisses him off the most is that he’s not even sure how it happened. One minute Cas is giving him the best blowjob of his life and the next he’s biting his tongue so he doesn’t spit out ‘I love you’ as he comes in the angel’s talented mouth. He avoids the sex for a week after that until he walks in on Cas moaning over the toilet, jerking himself the way Dean had taught him. Dean finishes the job for him as they frantically grind against each other, and without thinking Dean lets Cas push his finger inside him- only up to the first knuckle but inside all the same.

After that he realizes that he’s definitely insane and he’s not going to stop this just because his brain thinks he’s in love with Cas.

So he decides not to mention it, not to break whatever it is that’s going on between them and ruin a friendship along with it. He bites his tongue and lets his hand bring him and Cas over the edge together. Until they’re both shaking and panting and lying together blissed out on the crappy motel bed.

He sometimes wishes that he could take Cas to a fancy hotel where the sheets are Egyptian cotton and the bed isn’t a foam mattress with a frame that creaks and groans as they move.

That would be crossing a line though. Diverging from sex to feelings in a way that isn’t obvious but still hinting. Cas never complains though. He lets it happen wherever it needs to.

In a crappy bathroom stall. 

The back of the Impala. 

Crappy motel rooms that smell of wet dog.

“I’m going to clean up.” Cas tells him, rolling off the bed and pulling up his boxers before he saunters over to the small bathroom. He doesn’t know where Sam disappears to during their sex sessions. Sometimes, when it’s cheap and easy they get two rooms. Other times Sam just goes to the library to do research and always calls before he comes back- just in case he and Cas are going at it hard on the table. 

The worst Sam would see is a double hand job with a finger up his arse.

They haven’t gone much further and he’s not going to push it. Cas likes to take his time exploring, being attentive, and gently touching him with nimble hands.

“Wanna beer Cas?” he calls as he moves over to the mini bar, he pulls one out for himself and cracks it with a sigh.

“It’s 10 in the morning Dean.”

“So?” Cas doesn’t reply and he assumes that means no.

 

..... 

“How are things going with Cas?” Sam asks him at the diner. Cas is in the bathroom, and he’s digging into his burger with no care in the world.

“They’re fine.”

“Are you going to tell him?” He chokes over his food.

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re in love with him.” He rolls his eyes and focuses on chewing his burger. His eyes keep darting over to where Cas had disappeared earlier, afraid he might come back at any moment and hear Sam talking.

“Shut up Sam.” The man grins and he hates it. He wants to wipe it off his face with his fist or his drink or something. It’s smug and knowing and makes him want to crawl into a ball because he’s not meant to love people. 

When he loves people things go wrong. They get hurt and pretty soon everything is ruined and he’s left alone. 

“You should tell him Dean.”

“Sam.” He warns but Sam just shakes his head. 

“No Dean, just listen. The worst thing that can happen is that Cas doesn’t love you back. Just tell him.” 

“Sam just drop it ok? It’s more complicated than that.” Sam snorts and picks at his rabbit food. 

“Man up Dean.”

“Sam. Shut up and drop it ok?” he doesn’t wait for a reply. He stands up and leaves, storming past Cas who’s just emerged from the bathroom and is looking at him confused.

He ends up at a bar. 

It’s not the first time, and he knows it won’t be the last. 

Sam tells him he has a drinking problem and that he needs to sort himself out.

He thinks Sam needs to stop being such a girl and creating unnecessary chick flick moments.

Secretly, he knows he has a problem. He knows that he’s fucked up and sometimes alcohol and sex are the only things that make it better. Though now it seems the sex just keeps making things worse and the alcohol doesn’t really help because it just leads to more sex.

When he drinks the first thing he does is have a shot for each person in his life he’s disappointed.

His father. Probably mother. Ellen. Jo. Lisa. Cassie. Ash. Sam. Bobby. 

He does two for the last one. Just in case the first one didn’t mean as much. Then he drinks for himself and all his problems, he has a few for Cas and then one or two more for all the other fucked up people out there.

He thinks that inside everyone is severely fucked up. The difference between he and them is that he’s happy to admit to it.

When he got back from purgatory, he knew everything was different. Sam, for one, was happy. And he wasn’t mad that Sam moved on and had a life, God no. In fact he was fucking thrilled. Thrilled that for one year his brother was able to be normal and relax and turn off what they had been trained to do from the word go. What pissed him off was that he couldn’t make Sam that happy.

He loved Sam, he really did. That was his little brother who had relied on Dean for most of his life. But suddenly Sam was happy with a girl and didn’t need Dean; he looked at Dean like he had ruined everything. And maybe he had. After all he had come back form purgatory, he had demanded Sam come hunting with him, told Sam he wouldn’t go back to his life.

It was selfish of him. Selfish and mean and arrogant and just so him that it scared him. It scared him how willing he was to sacrifice his brother’s happiness so he wouldn’t have to be alone. That was the thing. He couldn’t be alone.

Even knowing Benny was a phone call away and that Sam would hate him for that- hate him for befriending a Vampire when he had made it clear you can’t trust monsters.

After all, hadn’t he just killed someone Sam trusted because she was a monster? 

And there he was suddenly protecting Benny like he was the gold at the end of the rainbow.

But he had been lonely, and scared and tired and Cas was gone. He had purposely stayed behind, let Dean leave and think he was gone forever.

And he didn’t want to be alone, so he pulled Sam from his apple pie life and made him come along on hunts, made him stay close because if Cas was gone then Sam was the only thing he had left.

It was mainly guilt that made him feel so alone. Guilt that Cas felt he had to stay in purgatory because Dean wouldn’t help him. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t even a lie. Cas had come to him when he was being domestic and normal and left because Dean wanted that. He’d wanted Lisa and her kid.

Cas had pulled his brother from the pit- even if it wasn’t completely Sam he had still done it. Done it to try and make Dean happy. Cas had turned to Crowley to help protect them and save the world from the war raging in heaven. Cas had done so much and he hadn’t helped. When Cas had pleaded for them to leave him alone, to let him do this he had intervened.

Ruined everything. 

Treated Cas like the enemy.

Blamed him for the worlds issues. Let Cas believe it.

So Cas felt he needed to stay, felt that he needed to do his time for the wrongs he had committed and Dean couldn’t even tell him not to be stupid. That he cares- maybe not loves at that time but cares about Cas and that’s why it hurt so much.

That’s why he was so mad. Not because Cas had done the wrong thing but because it had hurt so much. Because he cares and Cas had been in so much pain and had made so many mistakes- had been so human- that it hurt. And because he’s an emotional retard he got mad instead.

He pulls out his phone after he finishes his beer and dials Cas’s number. It rings through going to voicemail. Cas’s voice raspy as he questions why he needs to leave his name- after all whoever’s calling should know it’s him correct?

“Cas man…I don’t hate you for what happened ok? I love you Cas. I was so mad because I love you and you hurt me you jerk. You stupid loveable jerk.” He drops his phone then, it slips from his fingers and lands on the ground. He stares down at it, confused to how it got there so fast. But it did.

When he leans down to pick it up the man at the bar decides its time for him to leave and calls a cab. It’s not even dark out when he steps outside. Families are walking along the street, avoiding him like the plague, giving him pitying looks as he stumbles into the cab and tells the driver the name of the motel he’s staying at.

He wonders how far gone you have to be to get stark drunk at 3 in the afternoon. Then he catches a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror and thinks ‘oh that’s how far.’ 

“That’s 17.50” the driver tells him and he thinks he comments how that’s a public disservice to the people of America as he hands the man a 20 and stumbles out. When he can’t remember what room he’s in he just starts knocking on doors. 

It’s the sixth door that opens to reveal Sam frowning and Cas looking over from the couch with a book in his hands.

“Hey.” He slurs before Sam catches him as he tips over. 

“You need to sort yourself out Dean.” Sam tells him and he just grins and plays with Sam’s hair because his brother doesn’t get it. 

“Apple pie life Sammy.” He thinks he says. Sam just gives him a weird look before helping him into the bed that still smells of the things he and Cas had done that morning.

He can’t be sure if he falls asleep or passes out- either way darkness comes and he likes it.

 

.....

“Dean. Dean wake up.” There’s a cold hand on his cheek and it feels nice against his heated skin. When he opens his eyes to a bright fluorescent light he winces and closes the again before blinking multiple times.

“Dean.” The voice says again and he turns to look at Cas who’s sporting a black eye and split lip.

“Cas? What happened?” He groans and Cas hands him a glass of cold water and some Tylenol. 

“You got drunk and passed out as soon as Sam put you on the bed.” That explains the headache. But not why Cas looks like he took a beating or two.

“What happened to you?”

“Sam and I found the witch. We had a little brawl before we managed to take her down.” Cas makes him drink more water. His throat is dry and it burns, his mouth tastes disgusting and everything just seems to be clouded by a dark smoke. 

“Do you remember anything from last night?” Cas asks him gently, long fingers along his arm. It soothes him and he can’t help the dopey smile that forms over his face.

“No…should I?” Cas shakes his head and looks down at the bed. He frowns and wonders what he did. What he said to make Cas look so distant.

“No of course not. Finish your water and have a shower.”

“You going to join me?” he teases and Cas laughs.

“Sam will be back soon, maybe next time.”

Three days later he does remember but he doesn’t bring it up and Cas never mentions it again so he thinks it’s going to be ok.

_2._

_Sigh it into her mouth, wedged in between teeth and tongues. Don’t even let your lips move when you say it, ever so lightly, into the air. Maybe it was just an exhalation of ecstasy._

Not every day is a bad day.

Sometimes they’re good. Sometimes he forgets about everyone he loves being dead and gone form this world, instead he thinks about how happy they must in heaven- drinking with Ash and visiting Einstein.

Sometimes they don’t find a hunt for a couple of days and just hang around like normal people, visiting motels, driving for hours- road trips that don’t end in blood and pain.

Today is a good day.

Today he woke up and just knew that it was going to be all right.

Sam’s snores could be heard from the thin wall that separated their motel rooms. Outside the window was a dull light that told him it was still early- to early to be up and wide awake. He was though. Looking at Cas, still sleeping, curled up in a ball he strokes the thick soft black hair before going to brush his teeth. His mouth feels dirty and tastes of stale alcohol from the drinks he and Cas had shared the night before. The memory of licking Tequila off of Cas’s body leaves him flushed, his morning wood stirring uncomfortably. He decides not to do anything about it though, hoping for morning sex that had less of a chance of happening if he does something about it now. Then again, his recovery time wasn’t something to be embarrassed about.

Still, he’s not going to risk missing the opportunity. He quietly sneaks back to the bed across the stained carpet. Careful not to make any creaks or bangs in fear of waking up Cas. He ignores the slight rumble of his stomach, deciding he and Cas and Sam can go for breakfast at a more reasonable hour, and slide back under the warm covers. Gently, he inches closer to Cas who’s lying straight like a board and facing him. He had thought sharing a bed with Cas would mean entangled limbs and not enough space, he was wrong. Cas stayed on his side unless Dean initiated cuddling- which he called post sex recuperation. Cas never argued though and let Dean be the big spoon.

These sorts of days are his favorites, the ones where he manages to wake up before the fallen angel. He memorizes Cas’s face during these times, studies each line and angle so that when he closes his eyes it’s imprinted on his brain. He finds that when Cas is asleep he looks relaxed, peaceful, and innocent. Even after mind blowing orgasms Cas still has some sort of guard on, something hidden behind his features that Dean aches to know. He wishes sometimes he could see Cas sleeping with his eyes open, just so he could understand what it was that was hidden. Either way, Cas sleeping is his favorite past time. With Cas’s breathes in the air he times his own with them, lets his eyes just watch as Cas gets lost in a world of dreams.

Sometimes when he watches Cas will start having a nightmare, he can tell from the onset of his shoulders and the furrow between his eyebrows. During these dreams he pulls Cas to his chest, strokes his hair and just whispers words of nothingness- much like Cas does when he wakes in the middle of the night in a sweat, panting and grasping the sheets in fear. Other times, the good times, a small smile will tug at Cas’s lips and then his name will slip through. It’s not a moan or a plea but just a quiet whisper, almost like a secret.

He kisses Cas awake.

Starting slowly he presses feather light kisses along Cas’s jaw line, he lets his fingers dance under the old shirt Cas wears to bed. When Cas starts to stir and moves his head he presses slightly harder, letting his nose brush against Cas’s as he teasingly hovers his lips above Cas’s. His tongue slowly darts out and licks the seam, coaxing them open as a small smile forms.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish Winchester.” Cas whispers, with an attitude e’s only recently developed. His voice goes straight to Dean’s crotch. He loves the sound of Cas’s voice in the morning, so close to his sex voice- thick and sated but hinting at something more. He gives a small chuckle, ignoring Cas’s morning breath and presses his tongue to Cas’s lips again. This time Cas reacts, he opens his mouth and holds the tip of Dean’s tongue between his teeth, licking it slightly. Dean leans down, attaching his lips to Cas’s and stifling the soft moan that vibrated in his throat.

They kiss slowly. Starting with just pecks of their lips, then their tongues slowly moving with one another. He’s not really sure who takes control but thinks that they both just kiss together. It’s different, not rushed or necessarily leading towards anything, just kissing on their sides. Cas rolls them first, hovering over Dean with strength that it doesn’t look like he possess. The kiss doesn’t change its tempo though. Each time they break away for air it’s to stare at one another, faces close and eyes searching. He slides one hand from where it was on Cas’s neck up to the side of his face, his thumb strokes his cheek and he pulls him back down. Cas comes willingly, letting his body lower onto Dean’s. 

“Cas.” He murmurs and Cas pulls back, faces soft but eyes alight with fire as he presses his hips into his half hard cock. He closes his eyes tightly and takes in a sharp intake of breath through his nose. Cas’s lips press to just below his jaw and he lets his own fingers go under his shirt, trail along his spine. 

“Take it off?” he asks and Cas shuffles for a moment, sliding the black material over his head and moving deliciously against his crotch. Cas sits up and he loves the view. Cas half naked, straddling him with a fire in his eyes and lips deliciously pink. His fingers gently trail along the bare skin of Cas’s chest, he feels the slight twitch of muscles and hears the gentle sigh Cas lets out, sitting further back and applying a nice pressure on his cock. 

“What do you want Dean?” Cas asks gently, Dean pauses and Cas’s hands cover his own. _I want you, just you in every possible way_ he thinks but doesn’t let himself say it. 

“I want you to fuck me Cas.” He says gently, far more gently then it should be said. Cas goes alarmingly stiff above him before a small hesitant smile curls on his lips. 

“Are you sure.” 

“Please.” He says and Cas answers with a kiss, leaning down again and shifting slightly so he’s between Dean’s legs now. The kiss is still slow and gentle but has a promise of something more.

“I don’t know what to do.” Cas tells him and he just shakes his head, their lips brushing as he does and his fingers gently cupping Cas’s arse. 

“It’s natural babe.” He murmurs and then shifts slightly, pushing Cas off so he can shed his shirt and search through his duffle for the lube and condoms. Cas watches on the bed with interest and he feels like he could come undone then and there. He’s the picture of sex, hair messy, eye brow quirked, chest heaving and the strain of his erection against the black fabric of his boxers.

“Watch and learn.” He tells him before shedding his own boxers and sliding on top of Cas. He grabs one of Cas’s fingers and pulls it to his mouth, sucking it in a way he would Cas’s cock. He can tell it’s getting Cas worked up and smirks as he bites down on the pad of the finger. When he releases it with a pop Cas has his own mouth open and eyes wide. He doesn’t dwell on it, instead opening the lube and pouring some onto the well-sucked digit.

“Put it in Cas.” Cas does, he slowly slips in the tip first, teasing like always before sliding it in. The familiarity of it makes him smile before he leans forward and kisses Cas silly. Their tongues sliding and teeth clashing as Cas pulls out and adds more lube. When both of his fingers slip in Dean lets out a gentle moan.

“Scissor them Cas. Move them like scissors.” Cas does and Dean just relaxes into the motion, letting Cas tease his prostate and occasionally thrust their cocks together- the friction of boxers against his bare cock has him moaning.

“Dean…can…Dean.” Cas stutters, his hips desperate for something. He shifts. Rolling off Cas so that the long fingers slip out of him.

“Take off your pants and put this on.” He hands Cas the foil package and watches with an amused smile as Cas struggles to get his pants off and then roll the condom on. Dean had showed him how before though so he just watches and when Cas is finally sorted he spreads his legs.

“Go slow ok.” Cas nods and Dean notices the slight shake in his body as he lines up. He pulls Cas down for a gentle tender kiss, cupping his cheek while the other hand grips his cock and he raises his hips to push the tip in. Cas goes rigid but lets him take control. “Cas breathe, just relax ok.” There’s a strangled moan and he gently inches further in. Dean just leans back and let Cas slowly push into him, inch by inch until he’s balls deep and just still. He wonders what it feels like for Cas, what he’s thinking, if it’s as good filling him as it feels being filled. 

“Shit Dean.” Cas murmurs and he smiles kissing him again and then thrusting slightly. 

“Move Cas. Just move.” He’s always known that Cas was a quick learner and when his second thrust comes with a twist and delicious pressure against his prostate he smiles and tells Cas to keep doing that. Cas does, slowly moving, snapping his hips back and forth in a slow but steady rhythm. Part of him wants Cas to move faster, to lose complete control and fuck him into the mattress so he feels it for days. He doesn’t say anything though. Not with Cas moving slowly, their lips moving gently, trailing along one another’s skin as Cas just keeps moving and groaning and panting. He locks one hand onto Cas’s hips and the other on the bed, gripping the sheet. Cas pumps away on his forearms and uses one hand to stroke his hair. It’s gentle and soft and they stare at one another in between each breath.

When he takes a hold of himself and Cas starts to move faster but just as gently he realizes that this isn’t fucking. It doesn’t feel like a fuck in the morning to get the day going. This is slow and gentle and full of unspoken emotion. Cas makes sure with each thrust his body shakes and when they kiss he understands what people mean when they say ‘making love.’ 

“Dean…you’re…I…I…”

“Shh. It’s ok.” Cas’s hips being to falter, each thrust going deeper and taking longer to slide out, he squeezes around Cas a few times and commits to memory the moans Cas makes. When Cas leans down to kiss him he feels himself coming. His cum spurts between them and when he clenches Cas lets out a loud half moan half scream and buries himself inside. They lay there for a moment. Cocks limp and chests sticky with his cum. When Cas shifts out and discards the condom Dean rolls them onto their side, and cradles Cas to him, holding him close.

“Good?” he asks teasingly and Cas’s laugh rumbles against his chest. 

“Could have been better.”

“Bite your tongue.”

“Or you could…” Cas trails off with a stifled yawn. He smiles and leans down, kissing him one more time. “I love you.” He breathes in between Cas’s lips. The kiss falters for a moment as the words escape their mouth and seem to softly touch their ears.  His heart quickens as Cas pauses but then the kiss continues, gently, the echo of the words lost between their tongues.

 

_3._

_Buy her flowers. Buy her chocolate. Buy her a teddy bear, because that’s what every romantic comedy has taught you. Take her out to a nice restaurant where neither of you feel comfortable and spend the whole night clearing your throat and tugging at your tie. Feel like your actions are more suited to a proposal than the simple confession of something you’ve always known._  

Dean knows that he needs to tell Cas properly on a Thursday.

At first he find it ironic that on a Thursday of all days he feels the need to confess his love to the angel. The irony is quickly lost when he realizes that _he needs to tell Cas he loves him_.

And really, it’s all because of a djinn. He blames Sam for it all, though that’s only because it’s easier to blame Sam than admit that he would have stayed there forever if he could.

It’s easier to tell Sam that he has to be less stupid and stop getting himself in trouble so he can ignore the guilt of how quickly he forget this life in favor of the one his mind created.

The one with Cas on a beach, hidden away on an island far from trouble, where they made love in the night in ways he could only dream of in reality, kissed him because he wanted to- not because he was building up to a good fuck. A reality where they had candle light dinners of burgers and watched Dr. Sexy and held hands. He knows, deep deep down he knows that he would have stayed there. That if Cas hadn’t have stopped the drugging he would have been happy there forever.

Happy where he wakes up to Cas telling him he loves him. 

So when he wakes up and realizes it was all in his mind he knows that he has to tell Cas. Just in case maybe they can have that reality- which they can’t. Raised a hunter you die a hunter.

Well at least he will, there’s still hope for Sam. But he can’t help but think about what Cas might say. Wonder if Cas will return the feelings or not. If maybe they have a chance at something more than sex- which is stupid because he’s never wanted anything more than sex.

Except for when it came to Lisa. Maybe Cassie was well. The difference to him is that Cas can’t give him a family. Can’t promise he’ll settle down and ground him.

And Dean loves that. He loves that for Cas he doesn’t have to change, that they could spend the rest of their life in the Impala or motel rooms, hunting things, saving people- the family business. Perhaps some weekends they could visit Sam and his kids, have dinners and go to baseball games while keeping an eye out for Vampires and Shape shifters. Live a domestic life suited to this life style. 

He thinks maybe, when he catches Cas smiling at him with such relief, that it isn’t such a stretch of imagination after all.

 

.....

He tells Sam that he wants to take Cas some where special.

Sam doesn’t laugh, or tease, or mock like he thought he would. Instead he places a hand on his shoulder and tells him not to break any hearts.

Dean feels that maybe Sam isn’t talking about Cas’s heart at all.

 

.....

 

Cas says yes. 

To be fair he asked him in the middle of a blow job, his mouth filled with cock and the words coming out awkwardly. When Cas throws his head back and screams “Yes Dean…yes!” he isn’t sure if it’s in response to the question or the vibrations of his lips. Either way, he thinks it’s a positive reaction. 

“We’ve got reservations for 7, wear something nice.” He kisses Cas’ temple before getting up to go meet Sam at the library.

At 7 Cas is sitting on the couch watching national geographic and fiddling his thumbs. Dean wonders if he’s nervous because Cas never twiddles his thumbs. He just sits as still as a statue until his now human body starts to ache. 

“Cas?” he asks from the table and Cas turns wide eyed and looks him up and down. It makes his skin prickle and his mouth go dry when Cas looks at him with lust filled eyes that are as dark as the navy shirt he’s wearing. 

“I suppose we should get going? Sam tells me it’s rude to be late to such things.”  He blinks and wonders what he’s getting himself into.

“Yeah let’s get going.” He doesn’t wait for Cas so they can walk next to each other, nor does he hold his door open when they get to the car. Each moment they drive his stomach spins and he wonders when he turned into such a girl. They listen to Metallica on the way, and if it’s just to help assert his masculinity he doesn’t mention it. 

“Where are we going?” Cas asks as they pull into a car park that’s near full to the brim. He swallows tightly and keeps telling himself there is a white castle a block away and they don’t have to do this. But when he looks at Cas in slacks and that navy shirt that’s just tight enough to prove he’s not all skin and bone, he tells himself to suck it up and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Here. If that’s alright, Sam told me about it- seemed nice and stuff.” Cas just gets out of the car and waits for Dean to pull himself together. 

He’s not freaking out, not really. It’s more that he’s having second thoughts about this entire situation. After all, can two guys go on a date to some fancy and ridiculously high priced restaurant?

Is that sort of thing acceptable?

Do you do something like this with your fuck buddy?

 _You do when you’re in love with him_ he reminds himself and then sighs. If this thing he’s feeling is love, it’s fucking horrible.

But it’s also Cas, so he puts up with it for that reason and that reason alone.

The place is tacky and posh and he hates it the minute he steps foot on the tiled floor. The ceilings are high with chandeliers and there is a life string quartet playing music that Sam claims is good for brain activity. Waiters dash past in tuxedos and the tables all have white tablecloths, fine silver and what looks like very expensive crystal glasses. He doesn’t have to look over at Cas to tell how uncomfortable he is, he’s almost certain his own body echoes the exact stance. 

“Good evening sir, how may I be of your assistance tonight?” a man with a tacky moustache and raised eyebrow asks. Dean thinks he must be the ultimate cliché of classy restaurant greeters, save the French accent that is. 

“Ah yes…I have a reservation for Dean Jones.” He says nervously, ignoring the pointed stare Cas is giving him in favor of watching the man scan the book.

“Mr. D. Jones, party of two at seven p.m. This way sir, if you and your partner will follow me.” He doesn’t correct the mistake, he isn’t really sure how. What does he say? ‘Not partner, fuck buddy but that’s alright.’ For some reason he thinks that won’t go down well. So instead he gives Cas a small nudge and follows the man, looking at his feet the entire time and ignoring the way Cas is staring a hole into his head.

“May I bring you gentlemen any drinks tonight to get you started?”  He sits across from Cas and orders a double scotch, ignoring the slight flash of annoyance in Cas’s eyes. 

“And you sir?” the waiter asks, Cas folds his hands and sighs.

“Water will be fine thank you.” It’s awkward. That’s the first thing he notices. It’s awkward and uncomfortable and doesn’t at all feel like the place where he should tell Cas he loves him. People are laughing with champagne and wearing pearls and he’s still trying to work out why he has eight forks.

“This is not your usual dine and dash picking.” Cas says from behind his menu and Dean can’t help but smile. 

“No harm in occasionally living the high life Cas.” That’s really as far as conversation goes. He plays with his forks, downs his scotch in two sips and stares at the menu while the waiter looks like there are better places to be. Dean thinks the same thing.

“I guess I’ll have the chicken.” He says lamely and the waiter raises an eye brow.

“And which chicken will that be sir?” _well fuck_ he thinks and looks back at the menu, there are dishes with names that are most definitely not in English with ingredients that sound like they came from some hidden island where billionaires send their shoes to be signed.

“This one.” He says, pointing to something that looks really fancy and he has no idea how to pronounce.

“Sir, that is not chicken that is-” 

“That’s fine, I want that one.” The waiter gives a long sigh and writes down the dish before walking off. He looks at Cas who can no longer hide behind the menu.

The man looks just as uncomfortable as he does. He wants to grab his hand and drag him to some fast food place where they can laugh over grease stains and give blowjobs in the back of the Impala. 

He wants to with every fibre of his being. So he doesn’t and Cas just stares at him and stares at him and stares at him.

Once he believed that when Cas stared he could see his soul, that maybe the angel was remembering the Dean he had found in hell- the one he knew first that was broken and angry and just needed to be loved. Now when Cas stares at him it’s just empty, as if he’s searching for something that he can’t find. Dean knows that it’s because the angel can’t see souls any more, but he also thinks it’s maybe more. Like every time Cas stares he’s searching for an answer that Dean can’t give.

“What is this?” Cas asks him, looking confused and tired and just fed up, fed up with everything. He looks down at his plate, ashamed and tired. 

“We need to talk Cas.” He starts and thinks that’s probably the worst fucking start when it comes to admitting feelings.

We need to talk. _Well done you idiot_. He scolds, jaw rigid. Cas looks at him skeptically, he watches as blue eyes scan the restaurant; scan the table, look right through him and then they go had.

“Answer my question.” Cas insists, he can’t, and he knows he can’t because everything just seems to real. This isn’t a rehearsed script in his mind where they kiss over champagne and go home to fuck slowly and happily. No this is real life and it’s as if everything has zeroed in on him.

“Cas.” He breathes and looks up again, Cas is glaring at him. His eyes icy.

“Dean. What. Is. This.” It’s not a question now; each word is pronounced firm and demanding an answer. He’s not asking as Cas now, he’s asking as an angel, as someone that’s better than he is- that is far more than he’ll ever be. The thought hits him hard and his heart drops. 

“Cas.” Is all he says, repeating himself but this time with a more desperate tone. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. The one syllable that can safety leave his lips. He hopes it tells Cas that he’s sorry, that it wasn’t meant to happen like this.

It wasn’t meant to be blurted out in anger. It wasn’t meant to be fancy or rushed or forced. Not like this. This isn’t right. 

“This Cas, it’s not working.” _What?_ The words leave his lips and they’re wrong. They’re not three words of declaration, they’re so wrong and screwed up but he knows they’re right at the same time. 

“You brought me to a fancy restaurant to tell me you no longer wanted this?” Cas asks, clearly confused. He feels his heart drop and knows that this is the right thing. That it’s not fair on either of them any more.

 _‘Think with your brain, not your heart boy.’_ His dad had told him when he was younger, _‘it’s the heart that gets people hurt.’_ He feels like maybe for once he’s thinking with his brain. Remembering that it’s ok to put yourself first, to look after yourself above someone else. Sam’s words whisper in his head _‘don’t break any hearts’_ he knows that either way hearts would break, at least this way it’s just his. 

“I just don’t think I can keep doing this.” He says and stands up, letting the napkin fall off his lap. He doesn’t look back as he leaves. 

Not when Cas grabs his wrist lightly and lets it fall from his grip.

Not when he feels his heart skip a few beats.

Not when Cas screams his name across the restaurant, calling after him- begging for him to come back. Sounding so vulnerable, so human.

He just keeps walking and people stare at him and he feels the shell that he had put up to protect himself slowly crumble away until it’s just him.

_4._

_Whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night, after you’ve counted the space between her breaths and are certain she’s asleep. Shut your eyes quickly when she shifts toward you in askance. Maybe you were just sleep whispering._

He goes to a bar.

It’s a pathetic little place that smells of vomit and body odor. He thinks it suits him pretty well. 

The man doesn’t ask questions and keeps giving him drinks, looking at him with a  ‘you’re the fucked up type’ expression. _You don’t even know the half of it._ He thinks.

Cas is probably still at the restaurant.

Or maybe not. 

In fact, he’s probably gone back to the motel. Walked there in the rain because Dean didn’t take the Impala but kept the keys like a jerk. Right now Sam will be telling Cas it will be ok but Cas will be packing his bags. Telling Sam that it was just sex and Dean had to destroy everything by being an arse.

That Dean was the one to call it off and leave him alone in a world he knew nothing about. 

That just like he did everyone in his life, Dean had once again let down a person in his life that he cared about. That he had failed at one of the simplest things in the world- sex. And why had he failed? Because he was pathetic. Because he once again managed to make everything about himself and leave Cas- desert him when he needed him.

“You’re a fucking prick.” He tells himself. And it’s true.

Now Cas is going to leave.

He won’t come back. Dean won’t be able to pray for him, to ask for him to come back- get on his knees and beg.

Cas is going to pack his bags and leave just like he should and Dean is going to take it. 

Because God knows he deserves it. 

He deserves being left alone- and soon Sam is going to leave as well. Sam will tell him he’s pathetic and disgusting and leave to be with Amelia, to be happy.

And rightly so.

He’s toxic, poison to those around him.

His mother.

His father.

Ellen.

Jo.

Bobby.

Even Lisa and Cassie.

And now Cas. 

Next Sammy. 

It’s the way his life goes.

So he takes another drink and he lets the blonde who’s been eyeing him from across the room grab his hand and drag him into the alley. Maybe she’ll get a good lay out of him because God knows he probably won’t be able to save her when the time comes. 

She presses against him, crowding him against the wall and all he can think is how wrong it is. That this is in no way right- that these curves are meant to be hard planes, these hands are meant to be elegant and calloused. When he looks at her eyes they’re brown- not blue. He lips are soft and taste of strawberry and her skin is smooth.

It’s wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. But he needs it to be right.

He pulls her harder against him and tries to drift off into the kiss. He lets her hands distract him as they go down his pants and slowly stroke him to hardness. All the while he thinks about Cas when Dean’s sucking, Cas when he’s just on the edge, Cas when his fingers slip into Dean and take control.

When he comes it’s with Cas’s name on the tip of the tongue.

He doesn’t offer her anything in return. Instead he pushes her off of him, ignores her complaining and walks back to the motel tired and angry and broken.

Just broken and so alone. 

 

.....

Dean has a distinct memory of being four and sitting next to his very pregnant mother. 

His baby brother would be coming any day, every kept telling him how exciting it would be and he had even taken in one of the pictures to show and tell. 

It then sat on his dresser next to the one of him and his mom at his second birthday.

His dad was still at work and is brining home burgers from the diner for a special treat. His mom had told him that because he had been such help getting the baby’s nursery ready he could choose dinner. So of course he chose a cheeseburger and chips- plus he would get a really cool toy to play with.

“Do you think my brother will like burgers?” he asked her and she had laughed. He still remembers her laugh, the way it made him feel so calm and happy because he had made her sound that way. 

“I think he’ll like whatever you like.” She assured him and had pulled him close to her side. He had snuggled into her warm body.

“Yeah?”

“Of course Dean, you’re his big brother.”

“I am, and I goanna teach him lots of things!” His mom and hugged him a little tighter.

“I know you’ll always look after him.” 

“And you too.”

“Yes honey, and me too. But just remember Dean that as long as you look after people and love them they’ll be there for you- no matter what.” She had kissed him on the cheek then and he fell asleep against her side, waking to burgers and not really remembering much of the conversation at all. 

Now he just thinks how ironic it is how he gave up everything for Cas- so that either way Cas wouldn’t get hurt, so that Cas has a chance with someone better than him and can be happy- and now he’s going to be more alone than he’s ever felt in his life. 

 

.....

When he gets to the motel the light is still on and Cas is sitting on the bed. He can’t see Sam anywhere- not his bag or his clothes or his books. Nothing.

Just Cas glaring at him. 

“Where did you go?” Cas asks. It’s not hard or gentle just empty. Like he’s on autopilot.

“I needed to clear my head.” He replies, swaying slightly on the spot. Cas snorts.

“Did you go fuck someone?” he’s never heard Cas use the word before. Fuck. He says it with such disdain, like it had burned his mouth. When he shrugs the room spins for a minute and then Cas is there. Right in front of him with speed that makes Dean think he’s still part angel.

“I can smell it on you you know. The perfume.” He whispers against his ear, lips grazing the lobe.  “The _sex_.” He suppresses a shiver at the way Cas hisses out the word. All filthy and dirty and full of anger.

“It…it didn’t…it was just a hand job…nothing else.” He stutters out as the smell of Cas overwhelms him.

“Listen to me Dean Winchester. This is between the two of us. You have no right ending it with me and fucking some whore five minutes later. No. Right.”

“Fuck you Cas. I have every right.” He retorts, letting Cas push against him harder. The man moves his lips from his ear and looks him in the eye.

“You’re mine Dean. Mine. And no one else gets to touch you unless I say so. Do you understand me? Mine.” The words go straight to his groin they spin around his head and cloud his thoughts. You’re mine Dean. He is. He wants to be. He wants to tell Cas he’ll be his if he needs to, that he just wants Cas to stay with him, to not leave him.

“You don’t want me.” He says instead and Cas’s fingers soften on his wrist for a moment. It’s petty and useless but the truth. Why would Cas want him when he can have someone better? 

“Don’t tell me what I want.” 

“It’s the truth Cas. I’ll let you down like I did in purgatory, like I did with Crowley. You can do better- no you deserve better.” Cas growls at him. Actually growls like a dog and presses his forehead to Deans, their noses touching and lips so close. 

“You are a righteous man Dean Winchester. You did not and have not once let me down in anyway. I’ve already told you each action was my own; nothing you could have done would have stopped me. I was drunk on power but that does not mean that I am yours just as you are mine. You’ve been mine since I held your soul in hell and sowed your body back together. I will not share you.” And then he kisses him. Hard and possessive Cas kisses him and tears slowly fall down his face as their mouths join. 

“Cas.” He pleads, helpless, broken, tired. Cas sits him down on the bed, helps him strip until he’s down to his boxers and then slide underneath the covers. There’s a moment of panic when Cas disappears and he thinks he’s left him there, the moment vanishes though when Cas returns in his bedclothes and slides in next to him. There is no space between them like there normally is; Cas comes in close, pulling him to his chest as more tears spill from his eyes.

“I’ve got you Dean.” Cas whispers and he kisses his shoulder, his neck, his jaw and finally his lips. The tears still fall, his heart aches and everything feels so wrong. Everything but Cas in his arms.

They fit together well. Cas’s head against his chest and their legs entangled. He stares at the ceiling as Cas slowly falls asleep; the room is silent save for their breaths. He just stares and counts. He counts until Cas is breathing slowly, each one unrestrained and relaxed.

It’s not until he’s certain though. Not until he’s absolutely positive that Cas is asleep that he pulls the man closer, lets their bodies mold together as well as they can. 

“I love you. Please don’t doubt how much I love you.” He whispers into Cas’s hair, kissing the crown of his head and unable to see Cas’s blue eyes staring at his chest as he drifts to sleep. 

_5._

_Blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, as clumsy as your two left feet. When time seems to freeze, hastily tack on “in that shirt” or “when you make your award-winning meatballs” or, if you are feeling particularly brave, “when we do this.” Resume dancing and pretend you don’t feel her eyes on you the rest of the night._

“Are you crying?” Cas asks him and he shakes his head, blinking away the tears swimming in his eyes. 

“No.” he replies and Cas moves his head from his shoulder to look at his face.

“Yes you are.”

“I am not Cas. Drop it.”

“You didn’t drop it when I cried after watching the Titanic.”

“That’s because it’s a rubbish movie.”

“It was heartbreaking.”

“It was stupid. They could have both fit.”

“He sacrificed himself for her. Their weight would have sunk the door further into the water meaning both of them would freeze. It was endearing.”

“Whatever you say.”

“You’re changing the subject Dean. Are you crying?” He glares at Cas who’s looking oddly smug as the credits keep rolling. He doesn’t know why he agreed to watch Dirty Dancing but when Cas had said he hadn’t seen it he knew he needed to rectify that. However, watching the movie with him wasn’t part of the plan. 

He had always had a soft spot for Patrick Swayze. 

“I don’t cry.” Dean tells him and Cas rolls his eyes, standing up and walking over to the phone on the table. 

“I’m going to message Sam to pick something up- do you want burgers or pizza?” he thinks about it for a moment before shrugging. 

“Whatever you want.” Cas asks for burgers and it makes him smile because no matter what Sam does Cas will not eat salad. Each time it happens Sam glares and tells him he’s corrupted an angel of the lord. Dean winks and tells him he’s got that right. 

He watches Cas as he walks over and sits back down on the couch, stretching out so his feet are in Dean’s lap. He likes watching Cas now. It’s probably creepy- like how Cas used to stare at him.

Not that Cas doesn’t still stare. 

He’s just better at not doing it now. Better at being human- being normal.

He hates the word. Normal. Cas isn’t. Shouldn’t be. Each time Cas uses a phrase correctly or makes a human gesture he frowns a little. It’s not that he doesn’t want Cas to be human, of course he does, he wants Cas to adapt and live and experience and feel.

But part of him is afraid that as soon as Cas can look after himself he’ll leave them for good. He won’t ever come back. He’ll go live some apple pie life style like Jimmy or Emmanuel. 

And as selfish as it is, he wants Cas to be his forever. Just like Cas had said “I am yours just as you are mine” He knows though, deep inside he knows that this can’t laugh forever- Cas won’t always laugh at his jokes and have that special smile reserved for him. 

One day Cas will leave them- or worse he’ll find someone else. Someone that can teach him things Dean can’t, that can make promises Dean can’t and he’ll have to let him go.

After the dinner and the bar things had been different, not uncomfortable or strained but different. As if both of them were dancing around something important, afraid to go closer. Cas held him now, more so than before. Each night he fell asleep wrapped in the mans arms and each morning woke in the same position. Sometimes after a hunt they would stand together in the shower, still fully clothed and just hold one another under the hot spray, letting the blood and dirt wash off as they sought comfort. Other times they sat close on the couch, their bodies close, heads in one another’s laps.

In public they sometimes kiss, in alleyways or even bathrooms. Occasionally they get possessive. Grabbing one another’s hands in bars, glaring at people who try to flirt their way to a night in the sack. Little things that prove that they belong to one another in a way that they didn’t before. He looks at Cas now, sitting net to him, their sides pressed together and a heat warming them. 

“What are you thinking?” Cas asks, looking up from one of the many books Sam lends him to read. He thinks the is joke on him that he’s in love with a nerd.

“Nothing important.” He says with an easy grin and Cas raises an eyebrow.

“If you say so.”

“I was thinking we should go dancing.” What? He thinks. When was he thinking that? He’s not sure. But apparently it’s something he wants to do and he can’t take it back when Cas looks at him with bright eyes.

“Dancing?”

“It could be fun.” He shrugs and Cas chuckles.

“If you say so.”

“You don’t think I’d be a good dancer?”

“I’m sure you’re a great dancer.” 

“Then what’s the problem?” Sighing, Cas bookmarks his page and places his book down, giving Dean a fond look. 

“I can’t dance.”

“Well we can fix that.” Cas doesn’t hesitate to follow Dean’s lead- standing up and taking his hand. Dean isn’t sure if Cas ever will hesitate. He thinks about when he had been zapped to the future- how willing Cas was to follow him into a battle that would only end in death. Even now, without the threat of the apocalypse Cas is so obedient to his words and actions, he would do whatever Dean asked.

He wonders that if he asked Cas to run away with him he would.

“What are we doing Dean?” Cas asks and Dean pulls him to him, winds his arms around Cas’s waste and gently sways them back and forth.

“Wrap your arms around my neck- we’re dancing.”

“There’s no music.”

“We don’t need music.” He tells him because spinning them both around. Cas grips a bit tighter but follows and smiles and laughs. 

Dean loves the sound of Cas’s laugh. He moves them side to side in exaggerated steps. He dips Cas, twirls him, locks their hands together as they spin around and around.

The world blurring past them until all Dean can focus on is Cas and his blue eyes and wide smile and black hair. When they start to stumble from loss of balance he pulls Cas tight to him again, pressed their hips against each other, lets Cas rest his head on his shoulder. They move slowly, their bodies swaying to their own rhythm as Dean gently whispers the words of songs he knows. Cas just sinks into him. Let’s Dean hold him and move them.

“You have a beautiful voice.” Cas tells him gently and he blushes, his face heating up as he just holds Cas tighter.

He loves this.

He loves the feel of Cas against him. 

He loves it when Cas holds him.

He loves how their breaths are in sync with one another.

He loves that he can smell only Cas in the dusty motel room.

“I love you.” He says and then stops. Cas goes rigid for a moment but doesn’t look up from Dean’s neck. He swears that the fingers on his shirt tighten for a minute. “When you’re like this I mean. When you’re more human than angel.”

“I am human.” Cas replies, pushing closer to Dean and slowly moving them in a random rhythm. Dean closes his eyes.

 _We could grow old together_. He thinks. _If you’re human._

 

_6._

_Write her a letter in which the amount of circumnavigating and angst could rival Mr. Darcy’s. Debate where to leave it all day – on her pillow? In her coat pocket? Throw it away in frustration, conveniently leaving it face up in the trashcan, her name scrawled on the front in your sloppy handwriting. Let her wonder if you meant it._

He writes a letter the next morning and throws it in the bin as soon as he’s done. He wants to go outside and burn it but Sam is yelling for him to hurry up so he pushes it off the table into the trashcan and leaves it. 

It was a chick flick thing to do any way, but he does it because for some reason he feels he needs to. He thinks maybe if he writes a letter it will be ok. When he gets to the Impala and see’s Cas grinning at him he knows it didn’t help anything at all.

“Wait!” Cas yells just as they reach the end of the street the motel was on. He looks at him through the rearview mirror.

“What’s wrong?” Cas looks at him nervously. 

“I left Bobby’s hunting book.” He sighs and turns around while Cas looks at him sheepishly.

“Just a moment.” The fallen angel says and then runs in, coming out three minutes and thirty-seven seconds later with a puzzled look on his face but the book in his hand all the same.

“Everything alright Cas?” They meet one another’s gazes and he feels Cas searching for something again, looking for that thing he can’t give.

“It’s fine.” Cas assures him and then they drive off.

 

_7._

_Wait until something terrible has happened and you can’t not tell her anymore. Wait until she almost gets hit by a car crossing Wabash against the light and after you are done cursing at the shit-for-brains cab drivers in this city, realize you are actually just terrified of living without her. Tell her with your hands shaking._

When he was a child his father used to hunting that in a second everything could change. 

That you don’t have time to second-guess your self, hesitation can be life or death, that all a monster needs is one second. One innocent second to turn the tables and that can be your down fall.

One second.

One simple second and everything can be different.

One Mississippi.

One Hippopotamus.

One Thousand.

One second.

And everything changes.

He always belived it, always knew it was true.

But it never seemed as real as it did now. With Cas’s head cradled in his lap as Sam breaks every single road rule to get them out of there. 

There’s blood everywhere.

Just blood. It’s on his clothes, in the car, under his nail, in his hair. 

Cas is swimming in his own blood and Dean doesn’t even know how to stop it.

“Stay with me Cas. Don’t leave me you bastard.” He mutters, stroking the hair from Cas’s damp forehead. The man whimpers but otherwise doesn’t move. 

“Sammy go faster.” He instructs and Sam meets his gaze from the rearview mirror. He remembers when this happened with Lisa. When Cas was the enemy. When this was all different.

And when it hurt less.

When it hurt so much less then it does right now. 

“Dean…” 

“Sammy please.” His voice cracks and he looks back down at Cas who’s pale and barely breathing. “Please.” He repeats again and the Impala’s engine whines in protest as Sam speeds them up, pushing them forward. 

“Dear fucking God please.” He whimpers because he just needs something.

Anything.

_Anything._

Cas can’t leave him. Not yet.

Not when he doesn’t know.

 

.....

It was an easy hunt. 

Well it was meant to be- just a rogue werewolf in Chicago.

Everything had been in place, they had her cornered and then it just went wrong. Sam missed the shot, Dean had yelled to divert it’s attention so Sam could re load and Cas- stupid innocent Cas who was no longer an angel- had just acted on what Dean assumed was instinct.

And suddenly there was just so much blood.

 

.....

They take Cas as soon as they step through the doors. He’s holding him close, the body’s limp in his arms, twitching, breathing shallow and strained.

“HELP US. SOMEBODY HELP US.” He’s screaming but they’ve already got Cas. They’re already putting him on a gurney and pushing him through the hospital, doctors attaching tubes and trying to help him breathe. He keeps screaming though. Screaming for help. Begging for it. He needs it.

Help.

Will somebody just help him.

Cas. Somebody help them.

He needs help.

Cas. Help. Cas. Help. Cas. Help. Cas.

“Dean. Dean.” There’s a slap across his face and he blinks at Sam who’s looking at him worriedly. People are staring- some in horror, some in sympathy. Doctors are trying to lead them to another room.

“I never told him Sammy. I…he doesn’t…I need to tell him. I need to tell him. He needs to know.” Sam grips his shoulders tight and looks at him with sympathy. 

“I know Dean. I know.” For some reason he doesn’t think he does. 

They get him cleaned up. They bring him food and coffee and pills for the large gash on his arm. He doesn’t really pay attention though. 

Instead he watches the clock. 

He watches as each second ticks by. Each second that Cas is still not ok, each second that he doesn’t know Dean loves him.

It’s like the world’s trying to punish him.

As if the universe has said ‘I gave you chances to tell him and you threw them all away.’

“I didn’t even want to love him.” He whispers. Maybe out loud, maybe to himself. Sam doesn’t comment on it and he doesn’t expand.

He wants to tell the universe to fuck off. That he was doing fine before all of this. That his life used to be as normal as it could be and now because it had to try and teach him a few things everything’s fucked up and Cas is gone forever.

 

.....

On the ninth hour he prays to God for mercy. He asks for Castiel to survive, he asks that they’ll be given another chance, that Cas just lives. 

 _Please God let him live._ He begs, sitting there with his hands clasped tightly and his eyes shut. _Please bring him back for me- you’ve done it before, please bring him back again, just so I can tell him. Just let me tell him._

He should have told him. Like when they were dancing and then he took it back, or maybe he should have given Cas that note or made sure he said it when he was awake instead of asleep. He thinks of all the opportunities he had to let Cas know, to tell him that he loves him and wants to be with him forever.

How stupid of him it was to think that Cas would leave him for someone else- to think that it would be romance that would take Cas away from him. It’s not romance taking Cas, it’s fate, death- the man who offered Dean so much but is still taking away something so important.

Cas is here because of him, because he dragged him into this life and pulled him along to every hunt because he didn’t want Cas to leave him.

And now Cas is probably going to die- if not already dead, and he doesn’t even know. 

“Mr. Chrissleton?” both his and Sam’s head snap up at the sound of their ‘name’. A young doctor stands there in green scrubs with a tired look on her face. She eyes both of them. 

“Are you the emergency contact listed for Mr. Jacobs?” Sam nods so Dean nods. He remembers Sam filling out all the paper work. Luke Jacobs was one of Cas’s many new ID’s.

The former angel still felt uneasy about the idea. 

“This is his partner Mark. I’m just his brother.” The lady nods from Sam and looks back over at him. Partner. Partner in crime? Life partner? Sex partner? He thinks Sam made the wrong choice here.

“We’ve just brought Mr. Jacobs out of surgery. His arteries were severely damaged in the animal attack and we currently have him in a drug-induced coma. The next forty-eight hours will be critical in deciding if he survives this or not. I’m sorry to say that right now we can’t make any guarantees.” He thinks everything stops at that. A strangled sound is coming from somewhere, piercing his ears until he realizes it’s coming from his throat and it’s not just a sound- it’s sobbing. His body moves slowly with each sob, it starts in his chest, makes it’s way up his throat and escapes his lips. 

“Can he see him?” Sam asks and he’s grateful. He’s so fucking grateful because he isn’t sure if he could make any words come out right now.

“He’s currently in the IC unit. You’re only allowed ten minutes.” Dean nods and follows her through the hospital. She dresses him a blue gown, puts something to very his hair, and makes him wash his hands until a timer goes off. He washes them longer- he’s not sure how much longer but when he finally snaps out of his daze the timer already gone off and his hands are red.

There are so many tubes. So many cords and machines that he doesn’t know what to do except stand in the doorway until he realizes he has ten minutes. He walks forward slowly and sits in the single hard plastic chair next to the bed. There are four machines that are beeping, drips attached to Cas’s arm, tubes plugged in everywhere. 

For the first time in all his life Cas looks breakable- he looks ready to fall apart at the slightest touch. 

Very carefully he takes a hand in his own, he can tell by the slight tremors in Cas’s arm that he’s shaking. He grips Cas’s hand tightly; it’s cold and limp and scares him. But he doesn’t let go.

“If you wake up I’ll never let go.” He whispers and presses his lips to Cas’s palm, holds them there for a moment. The tears on his cheeks roll down and wet the dry cold skin. 

“I love you Cas. Don’t you dare die on me you son of a bitch. Please don’t die on me. I love you. I love you so fucking much you bastard.”

 

_8._

_Say it deliberately, your tongue a springboard for every syllable. Over coffee, brushing your teeth side-by-side, as you turn off the light to go to sleep – it doesn’t matter where. Do not adorn it with extra words like “I think” or “I might.” Do not sigh heavily as if admitting it were a burden instead of the most joyous thing you’ve ever done. Look her in the eyes and pray, heart thumping wildly, that she will turn to you and say, “I love you too.”_

One week after Cas’s final surgery they stop the meds keeping him in a coma.

He doesn’t wake up.

Two weeks after his final surgery they move him form the ICU and tell him that everything seems to be in order.

But Cas hasn’t woken up so he wonders what order they’re talking about.

On the third week the doctor tells him that as long as Cas’s heart is still beating strong there’s hope. That sometimes the brain just needs time to prepare itself, to remember it’s alive and can stop hiding.

He doesn’t believe it though. Instead he sits by the bed and holds Cas’s hand, telling him stories about everything and nothing. Reminding him of times they’ve had together, of things they’ve experienced. He sleeps in the plastic chair and only moves when Sam insists he should for hygiene reasons. 

Each night he kisses Cas’s forehead and whispers “I love you” into his ear because part of him thinks it will help. He doesn’t hunt any more and promises that if Cas wakes up he won’ ever hunt again.

Cas doesn’t wake up but Dean gets ideas.

So he starts doing what he’s good at, making deals.

Sam doesn’t let him try with a demon- and after he catches him halfway through the ritual he can’t escape Sam’s watchful eye. So he makes deals with God.

His first promise is that he’ll stop drinking and pray every night. 

Second he swears to go to church every Sunday- regardless of where he is and what he’s doing.

Next he promises to get a job and donate to charity for the rest of his life to make up for all the credit card fraud. 

Then he tells God he’ll give up the Impala _and_ guns _and_ drinking _and_ living a life of crime.

Finally when he’s desperate and empty and just wants to see Cas’s eyes once more he vows that he will stay away from Cas. That as soon as he wakes up he’ll give him money and tell him to start a life, that he won’t ever look back and stay away forever. He vows that Cas will be able to be happy and safe and stay out of harms way and promises that no mater how much he loves him he’ll stay away- because Cas alive and living (even without him) is better than no Cas at all. 

When it’s close to a month Cas still doesn’t wake up and Dean wonders if he ever will. Part of him says yes, that Cas will fight, but a smaller part getting louder and larger by the second tells him no, that Cas is gone.

He storms off one day, mad and tired and hurting.

He’s gone for ten minutes until he realizes that he left his phone and Cas could be alive. So he runs back and Cas is still there in the bed asleep, not waking up, just dreaming.

Dean hopes that he’s dreaming of him.

 

..... 

Everything seems to mash itself together. His time is spent at the hospital or the motel room he and Sam are living in. 

In the morning he wakes up and starts going for runs with Sam. When he gets back he showers, packs some stuff and goes to the hospital where he stays until he meets Sam for lunch. Then he goes back until nighttime and returns home.

He stays longer than the visiting hours tell him he can, but the nurses think they have some tragic love story and don’t complain. Sometimes he reads Cas books about anything and everything, other time he plays music and just sits there staring, thinking, and begging silently to God for hope.

Dean starts to learn that hope isn’t real; it’s just a myth people tell their children to keep them happy. He finds out that hope is still locked away in Pandora’s box, not there to help or save any of them while evils plague the world. He keeps hoping though, just in case. Though he does start to wonder if it’s hope or desperation that keeps him going. Desperation to not fail another person he loves. 

On a Tuesday he finds the note from the motel. It’s tucked into a pocket of one of Cas’ pairs of jeans. It’s crumpled and slightly torn- as though it’s been read over and over again.

**_Cas,_ **

**_I think a about us a lot. About what this is. What we’re doing. What it means._ **

**_I get confused about it because I’m not gay- ~~I mean I’ve never been in a relationship with a man before…not that we’re in a relationship I suppose but with you everything feels different so I don’t know.~~ What I mean is that I’ve never done anything like this with a man before- had this sort of relationship. You’re different for me I guess. It’s like…I don’t even know Cas. I just know that when I’m with you I don’t really care that you’re a guy and I’m a guy…it’s not a big deal or anything. It’s just normal._ **

**_When I’m with you I feel normal and I like that. Feeling normal._ **

**_With you._ **

**_Feeling normal with you._ **

**_You make me feel like I’m more than a hunter who’s got enough issues to fill the Washington state library. ~~You’re just…we’re…it’s like…when we’re together and you smile and everything just feels like it’s going to be ok.~~ You make me feel like famine had it all wrong- like I’m not that empty shell that can’t do anything right, that craves nothing because he deserves nothing._ **

**_When we’re together- when I’m with you just talking or driving or kissing or fucking or whatever it is we’re doing- I think that famine would have a different effect on me now. I think that I would crave you. I would be in a desperate need for you Cas._ **

**_~~I would ache for you.~~ _ **

**_I don’t really know where my life is going right now. I know that I’m not exactly stable- reliable. Not with this life style. I make mistakes and I let people down and I fuck up Cas. I fuck up everything all the time. Like this. I’ve fucked this up so bad and I just don’t know how to make it better. I know how to fix this because when I look at you all I see is you. Not Jimmy, not an angel of the lord, not the man who purged souls from purgatory to gain power and believed himself a God. I just see you- and fuck Cas._ **

**_Holy fuck does that scare the shit out of me. Does that terrify me and make me feel sick in my stomach because you- all of you the good and the bad- are the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. And I love you._ ** ****

**_I love you like I’ve never loved anyone. You’re it for me Cas. You will always be it for me and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending that you’re not._ ** ****

**_How much more of this I can take before you leave me for someone else- before you disappear and I let you because I love you and I want you to be happy._ **

**_I just want you to be happy Cas._ **

**_Please._**  

It’s wrong. It’s so wrong in so many ways and he tears the letter to bits, rips it and rips it and then tapes it back together because Cas kept it. And if Cas kept it that means it meant something- that Cas thought it was special. So he keeps it tucked in his own pocket and reminds himself that Cas knows. Even if the entire thing is wrong Cas knows.

That little thing makes him feel just a little bit better. 

 

.....

He starts saying it when no one else is around.

When Sam is at the library he sits on the couch and says it while watching T.V. He repeats it over and over out loud, let’s his mouth get used to saying it, teaches his body not to freeze when he does.

In the mornings when he wakes up and at night before he goes to bed he practices in front of the mirror. He tries to put in as much as emotion as he can, he practices his facial expression, the way he’ll hold eye contact. 

When Cas is still asleep he’ll look at his face and say it. Practice what it will be like to speak it to those soft lips surrounded by slight stubble. When Cas is awake and looking at him with blue eyes he whispers it to himself.

The words roll around his mouth. His jaw and cheeks stretching, tongue rolling, hitting teeth, lips grazing one another, muscles relaxing and breath letting the words flow. His voices starts to sound less strained, it becomes firmer and confident. 

He makes sure that he means it. That it isn’t just words- that when he says it it will mean something. It will sound like it is the best thing in his entire life and not something he regrets.

It will sound like he means it.

So he practices. He practices speeches; he practices blurting it out without meaning to. He practices saying it deliberately.

Once he heard that if you say something over and over and over again it starts to lose it’s meaning. It just becomes a word that sounds weird and has little impact. He used to do it when he was little. Say words like ‘Demons’ and ‘Yellow eyes’ and ‘monsters’ until they just lost their meaning. Until they were just words he was saying that held little importance. He thinks though, that the words that actually mean something, the ones that you hold close to your heart- that become a part of you- only get more important.

He learns this as he practices. 

Makes lists. Random things he ticks off through the day.

 _I love your eyes_  
I love your hair  
I love it when you smile    
I love it when you laugh at my jokes  
I love the way you treat me like I mean something  
I love how you look at me sometimes  
I love that you let me take and never ask for something in return  
I love that you’re always there  
I love you- Castiel- not your vessel. Just you. Only you. 

Each ‘I love you’ becoming more important, confessing more than just a state of emotion. 

When he goes to bed at night he says it just before he falls asleep. Until all of it just seems like second nature, he keeps saying it and vows that when Cas wakes up and hears him tell him it will sound real and be enough to keep Cas with him forever.

 

.....

When it reaches one month and Cas hasn’t woken up he starts to wonder if he’ll ever get to say the words the way they are now and as a result Sam comes home to a trashed room and a bloodied up Dean. 

“It will be ok.” Sam tells him and when he comes for a hug Dean lets him, because he’s sick of all of it and just wants something, anything more than this fucking limbo state that they’ve been placed in. 

 

.....

Cas wakes up on a Saturday after Dean’s had a large breakfast of pancakes and sausages and bacon and juice. Sam watches him eat it with the same smile that Dean ignores because it’s creepy. He also doesn’t want any chick flick moments so he just pretends not to notice. They’re just about to pay the bill when Sam’s cell phone rings and he looks over at Dean with wide eyes. 

“Where’s your phone?” Sam mouths and he frowns.

“I left it at the motel why?”

“Cas is a awake.”

 

..... 

The problem, he realizes, isn’t that he doesn’t love Cas, it’s that he had an entire speech planned and now he has no idea where to begin. In the short drive from the diner to the hospital he had rehearsed everything, making sure that it was meaningful and each word held the promise of forever. Now though, staring at Cas sitting up in the bed looking pale but alive, each word seems to leave him mind as his throat goes dry. He just stares at the man in front of him and Cas stares right back. The nurse in the room, after checking Cas’s IV and making a few changes, gives an awkward nod and leaves with the promise of being back later. Dean thinks that Cas thanks her but the beautiful sound of his voice stops him from actually understanding the words. 

When the door is shut behind her and they’re in the room together Dean takes in a deep breath. He thinks for a moment that he’ll smell Cas, the deep sweet earthy smell that used to cover his skin and haunt his dreams. He doesn’t though, instead he just smells something sterile and plastic. It’s not Cas but when he looks at the man sitting on the bed awake and watching him he doesn’t care. It takes him a moment to realize that Cas is waiting for him to say something, waiting for him to make the first move and he realizes he doesn’t know how.

“You’re alive.” He starts dumbly and Cas blinks, not smiling but it seems close to it.

“It would seem that way yes.” There’s an awkward silence that fills the room and Dean knows that this is his cue to say it to tell Cas that he loves him and he’s sorry and he never wants to leave. So he walks over and places his hand on Cas’s, he feels how warm it is and remembers when it was cold, remembers when Cas was lying in his arms with blood everywhere. And being Dean, he does the only reasonable thing he can do. 

“What the fuck were you doing pulling a move like that?” Cas sighs like he was expecting it and that just makes the anger boil.

“You would have been hurt.” 

“You’re not an angel any more Cas! You can’t go throwing yourself around like it means nothing. You’re _human_ you are going to get _hurt_ you could have _died._ Do you not see how that is an issue?” 

“Dean.” 

“No Cas. I mean Christ how stupid are you?”

“Dean.” Cas tries again and he sighs.

“Why would you do that Cas? Why would you put yourself in danger like that?”

“Because I love you.” And that seems to knock all the words out of him and he stares down at Cas with a slack jaw because he was meant to say it and Cas just did, stated it like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“You…I mean….What?” 

“I did it because I love you Dean.”

“You love me?” he repeats and Castiel just nods slowly, squeezing his hand slightly and leaving him breathless.

“Yes.”

“But…but I had a speech” _This is the time you say I love you too you idiot_ he scolds, but can’t really find himself to care because everything just seems to have gone in the opposite direction. Cas loves _him_ and for some reason that just changes everything.

“You had a speech?” Cas repeats and he nods, looking down at the angel and placing a hand on his cheek.

“I had this ridiculous speech to tell you and then you just went and said that.”

“Tell me. I want to hear it. Give the speech.”

“Cas…”

“Please Dean, please tell me the speech.”  He sits on the side of the bed, his thumb stroking along Cas’s cheekbone and his eyes searching his. Normally, he wouldn’t, he would just kiss him right here and now and try to do as much as they can in a hospital where any one could walk in. But this isn’t normal this is Cas and he had a speech and if Cas wants it he’ll give it.

“I know you found my note in the motel. I know that you read it and I just want to tell you that I lied in it. When I’m with you Cas I still feel like a hunter with issues and that I could die any day. I don’t feel domestic or safe or normal. What I do feel is human. You make me feel so human and that scares me. It scares me because sometimes I want to hit you and others I want to just hold you on the couch while we watch some crappy T.V shows. I want more than what we have…I don’t want it to just be a casual fuck here and there…I want…I…you mean more than that to me and I don’t want you to go be with someone else…to be happy with someone else.” He stops for a moment and licks his lips, he leans closer to Cas, close enough that he can feel the other mans breath on his mouth.

“I want you to be happy Cas, but I want it to be with me. You’re it for me; you always will be it for me. All the bad and good and anger and brilliance, you’re all I want and I don’t think I can walk away from this because I…because…”

“Because what?” Cas whispers and Dean notices that his eyes are closed so he kisses each eyelid in a way that’s far to girly but seems right for the moment. He then moves on to Cas’s nose and cheek and then he presses their foreheads together and lets his hand move to Cas’s neck, stroking the hair at the bottom of his head and just breathing. 

This time when he says it he isn’t drunk. He isn’t trying to slip it into a kiss or put on a fancy production. Cas isn’t asleep, he isn’t going to cover it up or put it in a letter, neither of them are dying. 

This time, when he let’s those three words slip from his mouth he means it. He feels his mouth make the sound, his tongue move to pronounce each letter.

He says it because this time it’s not just three words. This time it’s everything they both want.

“Because I love you.” He tells him and Cas closes the distance and presses their mouths together. They kiss softly, in a way they never have before but always should have. He lets Cas explore his mouth, their lips gently press against each other, mouths open in sync, their teeth gently clink together and they breath as one. Cas pulls him closer and Dean lets him, he lets the kiss get deeper and harder and just remembers that this time it is just a kiss and there are many more. That he can kiss Cas whenever he wants, however he wants.

That despite the monsters and pain and death that surrounds their lives whatever is going on between he and Cas is limitless.

When they break away from the kiss he grins and says it again.

And again. 

And again.


End file.
